Six Years of Starry Nights
by Racke
Summary: He was waiting, always at that café, for them to return. Tsuruya POV


Six Years of Starry Nights

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

XXX

It wasn't hard to find him. It never was.

He was always at that cafe, usually at that table, and rarely did he have anything other than tea.

It'd been like this for years, ever since that girl had disappeared. Tsuruya wasn't sure where she'd gone to, but the rest had followed. Perhaps not after her, but away from here.

She hadn't heard from any of them since then, and she still didn't know why he hadn't disappeared like the rest of them.

He would sit there, carefully sipping on his tea as he watched the world through the window with a bittersweet expression.

She'd asked him, once, why he'd stayed. He'd simply shook his head, and said that that wasn't his place. Not anymore.

She hadn't asked him again.

Dropping into the seat in front of him with her usual, cheerful greeting, she wondered if he ever thought of anyone else.

They'd been close, all of them had been, but the two of them more than anyone.

A part of her blamed him sometimes, for letting them leave. He should've been able to stop them. A part of her blamed herself, for being happy that they were gone.

He was alone now, like her. Left behind.

It was sad though, how he still always came to the same cafe. To the same table, and ordered his tea.

It was so obvious that he was waiting, like an abandoned pet for its owner. It was a bit pathetic, she thought sometimes.

But then, she loved him for it.

And she came to watch him.

Always at the same cafe, usually at the same table.

She didn't really want to remember, to think back to those who'd left them, but she still came. Hoping beyond hope that one day, perhaps he'd simply look up and see her there.

Not see the girl that was left behind, but to see _her_. To see and understand, to appreciate and love.

It was kind of pathetic, really.

They were alike in many ways, they were different in many others.

He was trapped in the past, clinging to the precious memories of those who'd left. She was trapped in the present, desperately longing to reach out, but never daring to breach the distance.

They spoke of many things, but they never spoke of them, not since that first time that she'd asked.

She sometimes wondered why they left, their reasoning for leaving with little but a goodbye. She sometimes wondered if they'd moved on, or if they were like him, just not daring to return in case they learned that he'd continued down his own path. That he'd forgotten them.

Sometimes those thoughts made her laugh. Usually though, they were the reason she screamed into her pillow at night, sobbing too hard to breathe.

She'd visited his apartment a few times, learned the way there by heart, but even in her wildest fantasies she couldn't imagine it being a home to anyone.

It was simply the place where he slept, where he dressed, where he washed, where he stored things.

The cafe was more of a home than that apartment ever would be.

She'd tried to see if there were tear-stains on his pillow too, but she hadn't found any. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad, if it meant something or if it didn't.

But sometimes, as he watched the world through the cafe's window, he'd startle, just a little bit. His eyes widen just the tiniest bit. And then he would be back to normal.

That's why she knew that he was still waiting.

It was painful, watching his eyes be caught by a golden headband in a little girl's hair, watching as he waited endlessly for someone that wasn't her.

She'd gotten him drunk a few times, dragged him home and then passed out on his couch.

It never helped for either of them. He still came to that cafe, she still came to that table.

He never mistook her for her, she wasn't sure if that was happy or angry for that. Happy that he would recognize her for herself, angry that he wouldn't even look at her like that by mistake.

She'd once asked him how he always knew that it was her despite not turning around. He'd told her that it was her shampoo. She'd thrown out that shampoo that night, yelling. She'd bought a new bottle of the same kind the next day.

Sometimes she wondered if she'd broken, snapped, completely lost it. Nothing made sense, and he didn't even notice.

She'd considered punching him more times than she could count. She'd considered kissing him even more.

She'd stolen one of his shirts, ages ago. His smell had long since faded away, but she didn't dare return it and didn't dare steal another.

She'd once heard a waitress call them a nice couple. She'd probably ended up leaving a bit too much tip that day.

They were considered interesting customers by the employees. He drank his tea, and she came looking for him. Perhaps there was still someone there who remembered them before they'd left, perhaps there wasn't, perhaps they knew the truth of who he was searching for in the crowd, perhaps they thought him just a bit distant.

She'd never asked, she'd never been asked. She just continued to watch him slowly sipping at his tea.

It was raining today.

Everything was covered in a film of gray, and the umbrellas moved silently on the other side of the glass, hurrying away from the sky's salt-less tears.

The pattering of rain was oddly soothing, and so she simply allowed herself to relax, to drift away from the one who never noticed, and away from those who'd left them behind.

"She hated rainy days."

Tsuruya blinked, shocked out of her calm from both his voice and the words. He never spoke of them, and he certainly never spoke of her. But he just did.

"It forced her to stay indoors. She detested it, following someone else's orders." He chuckled, his eyes on something far away in time.

Not sure if she should respond, she blinked again, before shrugging. "Ah, that sounds like her. Never bows before anything, not even the weather."

He didn't look at her, but his mouth twitched upwards, almost, but not quite smirking. Like he used to do, back then.

Still reeling from the madness of him just breaking his own routine, her open mouth betrayed her.

"I love you."

They slipped out, those three words. Of all the damn words to slip out, it's the ones that would break it all apart.

He blinked, startled for a moment, uncertain, before answering. "I know." He paused, looking briefly guilty. "She has until the rain stops." But the despite his expression his voice was so calm, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, as if he was merely waiting.

"Why?"

"Because I promised." He shook his head, both sad and amused. "Until the rain stops, I'll hold her a seat. Then I'll go buy her an umbrella."

She just stared at him, not quite believing the words coming out of his mouth.

"And after that..." He paused, seeming to think about something. "I'll buy a pen." He nodded thoughtfully. "Best to make sure."

And then the rain stopped, and so he got up, smiling with relief, as if a weight had just been lifted.

"Want to come?" He held out a hand, and she took it before she had a chance to think about it.

They walked out of the cafe, and the pavement was that dark shade that it usually becomes after rain.

Some were still holding their umbrellas aloft, distrustful of the still clouded sky.

It took them no time at all to find a place that sold those devises that were designed purely for the satisfaction of defying the heavens.

The seller looked amused of this person who'd buy an umbrella once the rain had already retreated, but shrugged it off and didn't mention it.

He just smiled back, and bought a pen too.

Then they were going back towards the cafe, and he was trying to write something on the umbrella whilst walking.

He looked too silly, struggling to keep it still and writing at the same time, and suddenly, without really being aware of how, she started to laugh. And he smiled back at her from his task, that same amused smile that told her he'd find it just as stupidly hilarious if it had been happening to her.

When they arrived, the waitress that'd just taken their tip looked quite thoroughly confused.

"Seven years ago, I promised a girl that I loved that I would always give her shelter from the rain." He told the startled waitress. "I told her where she'd find me. And when she left, I stayed." He held up the umbrella. "If she ever comes asking, would you give her this, and tell her I waited until it rained on Tanabata?"

She blinked, uncertain, but Tsuruya knew that she'd always been a hopeless romantic. And she nodded, and she took it, smilingly telling him that she'd make sure she got it.

He thanked her, and as he turned to leave, his hand found her own.

And then he began walking, so she followed, happily enjoying the feel of his fingers entwined in hers.

"Where are we going?" She asked, barely daring to believe that maybe he wouldn't wait anymore.

"Anywhere but here. Their tea tastes horrible." He grinned.

She stumbled, almost fell, and she somehow ended up in his arms.

"Then why-?" Why drink it each day of the week?

"I promised... I was an idiot, but I promised." He shrugged. "Besides..." He paused, his face turning a light shade of pink. "... the company was wonderful."

And she slumped, because he still missed them, and he'd always look back at their memories.

"But I figure the company can come with me." He squeezed her a bit tighter. "I'm sorry, I told myself that I would just wait until it rained on Tanabata. I'd tell you then. I-...I didn't think they'd manage to keep the damn day sunny for six years..." He grumbled, annoyed, embarrassed.

She stared up at him, wondering when she fell asleep, because this could only be a dream. He'd never stop waiting, and he certainly wouldn't be saying what she think he's saying.

"I probably don't deserve it, because I'm an idiot, and a coward, but... may I kiss you?"

And she started crying, because that's just too stupid to dream.

She kissed him first.

And then the heavens opened once more, pouring down rain as if trying to drown them all.

So she laughed, and then she kissed him again.

They both caught a cold.

They didn't leave his apartment for a week.

And she confessed about stealing his shirt. Then he let her steal another.

XXX

**A/n: You have no idea how good it feels to finally write a proper scene again.**


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